Read Online Cherry Pie by Samantha Kane - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Samantha Kane
Tags: LGBT Contemporary
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either say no and maintain his lonely dignity, or say yes and at least get the chance to fuck a man he wanted almost more than anyone he’d ever met. Wow, tough choice.
Connor leaned down. “Please, John,” he whispered brokenly in his ear.
John uncurled his hands from where he’d fisted them in the sheet to keep from touching Connor. He laid them softly against Connor’s upper arms, barely making contact. Connor’s skin was smooth and hot to the touch, and it was enough to make John’s pulse hammer and his balls ache for more. Fate was a goddamn hard-hearted bitch. But he’d known that already.
Connor turned his head, sliding his nose along John’s temple and cheek until his mouth hung over John’s. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.
John almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. They were going to fuck, for God’s sake. “Of course,” he said and then cursed himself for not being more romantic about it.
Connor took a deep, unsteady breath. “With men, it’s not always ‘of course,’ John.”
He’d left John at a loss for words again. For John and his partners, it had always been “of course.” He’d forgotten what Connor had been through. Suddenly he remembered Connor turning away when he’d tried to kiss him the other night. “Connor—” he began, but Connor’s soft lips cut off whatever he might have said.
The kiss was so tentative that John just lay there holding his breath, anticipation making him light-headed. He let Connor gently explore his lips, rubbing against them, tilting his head a little more to the side until he found the right angle. When the tip of Connor’s tongue lightly grazed the seam of his lips, John finally opened his mouth and took over. He slid one hand from Connor’s arm over his shoulder to the back of his head, burying it in Connor’s thick hair, still slightly damp from a shower. Then he held Connor firmly against his lips and tasted every corner of Connor’s mouth. He was delicious. Hot and slick and minty fresh. He’d brushed his teeth, probably right before he came to John. Something about that and his damp hair made John want to cry, which was stupid. He ought to be glad he’d gone to the trouble. But he got the impression Connor hadn’t wanted to give John any reason to reject him. He really didn’t get it. He didn’t know that John would have taken him dirty with teeth unbrushed.
Connor made a sound that might have turned into a moan if he’d let it. But he cut it off. It made John desperate to hear it, to make Connor lose control so he couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped an arm around Connor’s waist and with his hand in the small of Connor’s back pressed him down. Connor resisted for a moment, and then he slowly collapsed against John until he was lying full against him.
“Mmm.” John tried to talk but realized he had to stop kissing Connor first. He pulled his mouth away and was gratified to hear Connor gulp in a breath as if he’d been so into it he’d forgotten to breathe. “No sheet between us,” John murmured, gently pushing Connor back up. Connor rose up onto his hands and toes so John could shove the sheet down. He clumsily kicked it off his feet, hardly able to function, he wanted Connor back against him so bad. Connor must have felt the same, because as soon as John was free, he fell back on top of him, and his mouth was on John’s less than a second later. This kiss was much more aggressive than his first one, and it was John who moaned. He put both hands on the back of Connor’s head, his soft, thick hair heaven between his fingers. Then he wrapped one leg around Connor’s waist and rolled the two of them over so that he was on top.
“John,” Connor protested weakly. God, his voice was so deep it hummed along John’s nerves as the hair on his arms rose.
“What do you want, Connor?” John asked him. His voice was a little unsteady, and he cleared his throat. “I want to give you what you want, but I don’t
Connor leaned down. “Please, John,” he whispered brokenly in his ear.
John uncurled his hands from where he’d fisted them in the sheet to keep from touching Connor. He laid them softly against Connor’s upper arms, barely making contact. Connor’s skin was smooth and hot to the touch, and it was enough to make John’s pulse hammer and his balls ache for more. Fate was a goddamn hard-hearted bitch. But he’d known that already.
Connor turned his head, sliding his nose along John’s temple and cheek until his mouth hung over John’s. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.
John almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. They were going to fuck, for God’s sake. “Of course,” he said and then cursed himself for not being more romantic about it.
Connor took a deep, unsteady breath. “With men, it’s not always ‘of course,’ John.”
He’d left John at a loss for words again. For John and his partners, it had always been “of course.” He’d forgotten what Connor had been through. Suddenly he remembered Connor turning away when he’d tried to kiss him the other night. “Connor—” he began, but Connor’s soft lips cut off whatever he might have said.
The kiss was so tentative that John just lay there holding his breath, anticipation making him light-headed. He let Connor gently explore his lips, rubbing against them, tilting his head a little more to the side until he found the right angle. When the tip of Connor’s tongue lightly grazed the seam of his lips, John finally opened his mouth and took over. He slid one hand from Connor’s arm over his shoulder to the back of his head, burying it in Connor’s thick hair, still slightly damp from a shower. Then he held Connor firmly against his lips and tasted every corner of Connor’s mouth. He was delicious. Hot and slick and minty fresh. He’d brushed his teeth, probably right before he came to John. Something about that and his damp hair made John want to cry, which was stupid. He ought to be glad he’d gone to the trouble. But he got the impression Connor hadn’t wanted to give John any reason to reject him. He really didn’t get it. He didn’t know that John would have taken him dirty with teeth unbrushed.
Connor made a sound that might have turned into a moan if he’d let it. But he cut it off. It made John desperate to hear it, to make Connor lose control so he couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped an arm around Connor’s waist and with his hand in the small of Connor’s back pressed him down. Connor resisted for a moment, and then he slowly collapsed against John until he was lying full against him.
“Mmm.” John tried to talk but realized he had to stop kissing Connor first. He pulled his mouth away and was gratified to hear Connor gulp in a breath as if he’d been so into it he’d forgotten to breathe. “No sheet between us,” John murmured, gently pushing Connor back up. Connor rose up onto his hands and toes so John could shove the sheet down. He clumsily kicked it off his feet, hardly able to function, he wanted Connor back against him so bad. Connor must have felt the same, because as soon as John was free, he fell back on top of him, and his mouth was on John’s less than a second later. This kiss was much more aggressive than his first one, and it was John who moaned. He put both hands on the back of Connor’s head, his soft, thick hair heaven between his fingers. Then he wrapped one leg around Connor’s waist and rolled the two of them over so that he was on top.
“John,” Connor protested weakly. God, his voice was so deep it hummed along John’s nerves as the hair on his arms rose.
“What do you want, Connor?” John asked him. His voice was a little unsteady, and he cleared his throat. “I want to give you what you want, but I don’t
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